A PILL PLEASE...



A Pill Please: A Poetic Charge

A pill for the pain. The ache I feel deep in my poor heart. My eye has seen...my ears full. Of these obscenities. These infirmities of scenes from the horrendous news reports of the madmen residing in the palaces. They are not aliens, UFOs or phantoms. They laugh when tickled, bleed when hurt and for heaven’s sake they die. I don’t refer to the Avalanche or the landslide, the  sinkholes, earthquakes or the tsunami. Yet I refer to the human disasters I have to face day-by-day. Of the terrorism, senseless violence, greedy policies, tribal wars, religious crisis, outright theft, lip service and institutionalized crime.
Night after night in my dreams they appear before me. Masked men garbed in assorted expensive attires, as they bleed their tribesmen of the fruits of their blood and sweat dispossessing the citizens. They transform demagogues… they make us tear ourselves apart over the most tenuous issues while the most little important things are left undone.
From rooftops of temples to marketplaces they howl 'em empty promises of better life in our faces like unearthly creatures.
They vow to protect us with the last ounce of their blood. Yet in a bit, they cloth their selves like Bedouins to blow up to smithereens all of our lives' worth.
Today they are in the market and the prayer houses. Where else would they be tomorrow? I wonder.
There's a vision of hovering dystopia in the land more devious than Gomorrah...



Poem by ‘Dedoyin Shobo
Facebook: @shobo mayowa
Email: shobomayowa@gmail.com

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